


Power and Control

by Silent_So_Long



Category: RED (2010)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge 2012, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cooper muses on the vagaries of power and control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power and Control

**Author's Note:**

> This fic makes passing references to a scene which occurs near the beginning of RED, whereupon William Cooper is first introduced to the fold. Nothing too spoilerish, though.

William Cooper stared at his reflection displayed upon his mirror, large hazel eyes staring back at him from within an intensely unreadable face. It was the face of a professional and a true CIA man, the face he wore every day to work, and the face he rarely ever displayed to his wife and children once home. All his family ever saw was his friendliest face, full of tender loving smiles and gentle recriminations when things inevitably went wrong. In that, Cooper was much like everyone else, in that he had a face for different people, a different character trait that he displayed dependant upon whom he was with or what he was doing at any given time. 

He wiped the condensation away from the mirror when droplets began to build up on the reflective surface, smearing a smudged, damp handprint against the glass. The warmth spilling out from the rapidly filling bath behind him swirled against his skin and reached into his lungs with cloying strength. He shuddered, more at the damp sensations than at any true chill. After all, the humid room was far from chilly.

He closed his eyes momentarily and saw the brief memory-flash of the man he’d killed earlier in the day, of kicking the chair away from beneath the man’s feet while Cooper himself had still been on the phone with his wife, of watching coldly until the life ebbed out of the other man’s kicking body. He felt nothing about that death, no remorse, no guilt, not anything. After all, it was just part of the job detail for him; death was a part of life whether it was at the hands of another or just arriving naturally or so Cooper had always thought. 

Cooper knew that people often thought of him as cold, driven, determined, and while that was true, he was more than capable of feeling emotions. He felt love towards his family for instance, mingled with overwhelming protectiveness to ensure their safety at all times, at any cost. He would do anything for them, yet it didn’t mean that he couldn’t derive pleasure over his own job. The CIA meant everything to him, and he took pleasure in his assignments and the resulting cover-ups and intrigue that those assignments always entailed.

He felt excitement slowly building within him, at the rush of power he felt over having so much control over other people’s lives. After all, it was he who determined how people died or even when it was their time to go, orders or no orders. He felt arousal pouring through him next, unexpected and altogether all too pleasing. He gave into it, and allowed that arousal to wash over him and consume him. He knew better than anyone that he had to get his kicks from somewhere - why not via his job? 

Cooper blinked, and noticed the mirror before him had fogged over again, the streaks from where he’d previously wiped it clean plainly evident in the patina of scattered and gathered condensation. He didn’t bother wiping it off again; after all, he didn’t need a mirror for what he intended to do next. 

Cooper continued leaning against the basin with one loosely balled hand, as the sounds of rushing bath-water filled his ears, the clinging, cloying sensations of water trickling and wrapping around his naked body. He inhaled, chest huffing out and falling flat again when he exhaled. He closed his eyes, again, lips parted in expectation when he wrapped his free hand around his cock. He thought again of that rush of power that had arced through him when he’d kicked the chair away from beneath the hanging man earlier in the day, and heard the remembered echo of it hitting the floor and skidding away. His thoughts replayed the images of the man flailing his life away helplessly while he, Cooper, stood by and bathed in the intoxicating rush of power and control that taking another life had given him. 

His fingers worked at himself, moving faster and he was glad to note that he was already half hard. Even in the matters of his own flesh, he had control, of how hard to stroke, of how fast to go, of when to stop and when to start. He applied more pressure, fingers twisting and bearing down upon his hard length as he stroked faster, full blown arousal coiling through him to gather in his balls and stiffen his cock in agonising hardness.

Cooper’s lips parted, breath dragging in his throat and mingling with the thick and humid air surrounding him, eyes opening to stare sightlessly at nothing and everything. He choked out an agonised cry of arousal, unbidden, yet completely understandable as he felt the same rush of power again. He held that sensation in his mind as he stroked faster, harder, felt his orgasm gathering in his balls and in his abdomen until he finally came. His fist rose to muffle his cry of arousal behind clasping fingers, as he wanted to keep all evidence of what he was doing behind closed doors and unheard by his children.

He sighed, crashing back down to reality even as the aftershocks of his orgasm still coiled and fizzled through every aspect of his being. He washed his hands and wiped himself clean, as fastidious with that as he was with everything else. He turned and closed off the flow of water in the bathtub, deeming that it was sufficiently filled for his needs. Cooper carefully stepped into the bath, orgasm already out of his mind, another aspect of his life filed away that was necessary and easily controlled. He slid beneath the water, body soon mostly submerged beneath the white folds of bubble bath lather, as his eyes closed in eventual relaxation.


End file.
